


Guilty

by EleanoraMcKogane



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Established Keith/Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron) are Half-Siblings, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Soft Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleanoraMcKogane/pseuds/EleanoraMcKogane
Summary: Keith blames himself for what happened to Lance.---Again, I suck at summaries.





	Guilty

**Part 1**

Keith blames himself.

Of course he does; he should have been there to protect him, to save him.

He blames himself and no-one else.

And now Lance lies on the hospital bed, bruise and beaten and not waking up.That's the worst part of it all; not knowing when he'll wake up.

No, scratch that; the worst part is not knowing _if_ Lance will wake up.

And all because he was too stubborn and too selfless, his own life a mere triviality in this war.

It should be Keith lying in that bed with needles poked into his arms, a tube plunged through his nose and a machine keeping pace with his heartbeat.

So calm, so regular yet so… _unresponsive._

He would give everything to swap places right now if it meant Lance's life.

His life for Lance's.

A fair trade.

The _only_ trade.

"You should go and get some rest," Shiro says with a comforting hand on his shoulder that Keith shakes off.

“I'm not leaving," Keith replies sharply. "I'm staying here until he wakes up."

"Keith-"

"Stop lecturing me Shiro," Keith snaps his head to his brother.

Shiro's eyes widen slightly at his tone, surprised at his sudden outbursts and a shadow of hurt darkens them slightly. It was just for a fleeting moment before they return to their soft greyness.

Keith knows he should regret it and apologise. He wasn't the only one hurting. But he's too weak to even care anymore. He simply looks away, returning his gaze to Lance and tries to control his voice. "You go rest. I'll be fine as long as I'm here."

Shiro doesn't say anything. Keith feels the tension in the air, the unspoken words he knows his brother wants to say to him but doesn't dare for fear of another outburst.

And it weighs down on him, a heavy compression in his chest that barely allows him to breathe let alone have any kind of emotion apart from that wrecking hurt inside him.

Every single cell of his body tingles with his blame. His mind reels with these sickening feelings that course through him like acid.

Guilt.

Remorse.

Resentment.

Excruciating torment.

**Part 2**

  
One week and Keith still blames himself.

He has cried himself raw, has prayed to any and every deity out there that would listen to him, has bargained his own life and soul in return just to get a glimpse of Lance's eyes, blue and open and finally awake.

But one week went by and still nothing has changed; just Keith's mood shifting from undeniable guilt to unbearable despair.

Not even his friends seem to be able to shake some positivism into him. Keith is too far gone in his own miserable nebula. The spark of hope he had clung to was beginning to wane, withering with his heart.

And even if he tried to force it to beat as steadily as Lance's on that damn machine, he could feel it slowly breaking.

If only Lance would wake up, maybe he would finally be able to breathe again without the heavy compression on his chest.

"Here," Hunk says bringing some steamy coffee and offering it to Keith. He accepts, albeit reluctant but glad to occupy his fidgeting hands.Hunk sits heavily on the extra chair they brought to Lance's hospital room. It's not comfortable, Keith knows, the knots on his muscles from his sleepless nights watching over Lance proof of their hardness.

Keith hasn't felt the warmth of a proper bed in a week.

A small penitence to pay.

"How's the mission going?" Keith asks, his voice hoarse from his cries as well as lack of use.

He tries the coffee, hoping it'll clear his throat, his mind, his soul.

Nothing helps.

Hunk sighs tiredly and pinches the bridge of his nose. He retells the latest news though Keith didn't pay attention to it, too focus on Lance's fluttering eyelids that threatened to rip Keith's self-control as shred it to pieces.

After Hunk finishes his tale, Keith stares at his now empty cup. The coffee was nasty and bitter but it gradually lifted some of his lethargy.

Not enough to erase the pain that prick him like cold needles though.

Hunks stares at Lance, his lips curling down as a dejected expression wrinkles his always vibrant face into a grimace.

"I miss him," Hunk simply states, his voice laden with sadness.

 _I_ _miss him too,_ Keith's heart cries in response, tears stinging his eyes.

**Part 3**

Two more days and Keith's guilt is as resilient as it was before. Perhaps even stronger now as Lance's immobile figure keeps reminding him of his failure at protecting him.

Images of a scenario Keith constructed for himself haunted every single waking and sleeping moment, ghosts of what has been, of what could've been always taunting him. They jeer him, voices blaming him for not being there, for not being quick enough, for abandoning Lance.

_You left him! Where were you? You failed him._

Keith didn't need the voices to blame him though; he felt the guilt like cold water wash over him, drowning him in waves of culpability. A whirlpool of remorse, regret, shame and failure, the current pulling him down.

And down further until he hit rock bottom.

In the depths, however, he hears a voice. It's like a lifeline and he goes for it, grabs it with all his might and clings so tightly he doesn't let go.

_Keith…_

He holds onto it tighter and tighter.

"Keith?" the voice calls again, the water around him hauling him back onto the shore.

A hand touches him and Keith jerks awake. He had fallen asleep with his head on Lance's bed and a hand strokes his face, brushes the bangs from forehead.

A pair of blue eyes gazes down on him.

**Part 4**

A rush of emotions course through Keith unrelentingly and the only thing he does is grab Lance's hand in his and cry.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have been there for you. Forgive me," he sobs, fat tears streaking down his cheeks. He tastes the saltiness in them and he can only repeat his words, over and over again.

Lance takes his hand out of Keith's hold and forces him to look up, weak and cold fingers on his trembling chin.

Keith sees him through his tears, a soft smile playing on his dry lips.

"Hi Samurai," he says after clearing his throat and Keith's sobs soon turn into a fit of laughter as he sinks into Lance's welcoming arms, opened to him.

Only _him._

Keith blames himself.

He needs to blame himself for almost losing Lance.

It's all on him, without doubt. No-one can tell him otherwise. It didn't matter if it was his fault or not; the blame was his drive to hold onto Lance tighter like in his daydream before waking up with the sound of his voice.

But as Lance traces the lines of Keith's eyebrows to smooth his constant frown, eyes pristine and awake, alive, he allows a single moment of relief.

Not for him; it's never for him.

For _Lance._

**Author's Note:**

> Also published on Instagram and Wattpad (username: @/eleanoramckogane)


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